Chapter 3 Three

• Karina:
• I stormed into the dimly lit bar, my heels clicking against the wooden floor with a rhythm that matched the furious pounding of my heart. Everyone turned to stare, shocked to see me here. I didn’t care. My eyes scanned the room until they landed on him—Ethan—slouched over a table, a half-empty glass of whiskey in hand, his tie loosened and his face flushed. His friends looked uneasy, shifting in their seats when they saw me approach. I stopped in front of him, crossing my arms as I tried to keep my composure.
• Ethan looked up at me with an irritated expression. "What are you doing here, Karina?" he slurred, his voice tinged with annoyance.
• I ignored the looks from his friends and took a deep breath. "I’m here to pick you up, Ethan. It’s our fifth anniversary, remember? I’ve been waiting for you at home, but you never showed up. And now, seeing you like this—drunk out of your mind—you clearly can’t get yourself home."
• He laughed bitterly, leaning back in his chair. "I don’t want you to take me home," he said, his words sharp despite his drunken state. "Katherine’s back. My first love is here. Do you know what that means, Karina? It means I don’t want you anymore."
• The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but before I could react, one of his friends stood up and placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. "Ethan, man, calm down. You’re drunk. You don’t mean any of this."
• Ethan shrugged him off, glaring at everyone in the room. "I’m not drunk! I know exactly what I’m saying. I’m in my right mind," he spat before stumbling back into the couch, nearly passing out.
• My throat tightened, and I felt my chest constrict as I struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill. Before I could turn and leave, Katherine approached me. She looked pale, almost as if she had seen a ghost. "Karina," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I didn’t know… I didn’t know he had a fiancée. I swear I wouldn’t have come to see him if I’d known. Please, believe me."
• I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to keep myself from breaking down right there. "It doesn’t matter now," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Just… make sure he’s taken care of. I don’t want to see him again tonight."
• Katherine nodded, guilt etched all over her face. "You should take him home," she said, her tone almost pleading. "He’s your fiancé."
• I shook my head, my voice trembling as I spoke. "No, Katherine. He’s not my responsibility anymore. Not after this." I turned to his friends, my gaze hardening. "You take care of him. Put him in a hotel or something. I don’t care. Just make sure he’s fine because I don’t want to see his face again."
• They nodded reluctantly, looking just as shaken as I felt. Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked out of the bar.
• As soon as I stepped into my apartment and shut the door behind me, I collapsed onto the floor, the weight of everything finally crashing down on me. I couldn't hold it in anymore. My chest tightened as sobs broke free, uncontrollable and raw. I pressed my hands to my face, trying to muffle the sounds, but it was no use. It felt like the walls were closing in, the silence of the room amplifying my anguish.
• He had never really loved me, had he? They say drunken words are sober thoughts, and if that was true, then everything we had was a lie. I cried until my chest hurt, until there were no more tears left to cry, and even then, the emptiness in my heart remained.
• My phone buzzed on the table, startling me. I wiped my face hastily with the sleeve of my sweater, sniffing as I reached for it. My heart clenched when I saw "Mom" flashing on the screen. I hesitated for a moment, debating whether I should answer. But I knew she wouldn’t stop calling until I picked up.
• “Hello?” My voice cracked, shaky and uneven.
• “Karina?” Her voice was soft, but there was an urgency in it. “Are you okay, sweetie? I’ve been worried sick about you all day. You haven’t called. You didn’t text. What’s going on?”
• Hearing her concern made my tears start again. “I’m not okay, Mom,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “I—I’m so tired. I can’t do this anymore.”
• “Oh, sweetheart…” Her voice wavered, and I could tell she was holding back tears herself. “What happened? Talk to me.”
• “I just feel so lost,” I whispered, clutching the phone like it was my lifeline. “Everything feels like too much. I’m so tired of being strong, Mom. I just… I just want to come home.”
• There was a pause on her end, but I could hear her sniffling. “Karina,” she finally said, her tone warm and steady. “You don’t have to do this alone. Come home, sweetheart. We’ll figure it out together, okay? You’re not alone.”
• Her words were a balm to my aching heart, and I let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I whispered.
• “And you’ll never have to find out,” she replied firmly. “You’re my baby, Karina, and I’ll always be here for you. Always.”